


From Russia With Love

by melonbutterfly



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Astronauts, Cold War, F/M, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Pining, Politics, Unresolved Sexual Tension, alternate universe - astronauts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past 50 years the USA and the Russian Federation have been involved in a tug-of-war over the moon in which one country lands on the moon and "accidentally" breaks the other country's flag, prompting the other country to rush to the moon to fix their own flag and "accidentally" break the other's. It's getting expensive. So for the fifty year anniversary of the first moon landing both countries manage to reach an agreement: in a joint mission with the ESA they will go to the moon,  plant their flags and then leave, never to return.</p><p>Obviously, there is a lot of responsibility resting on Steve's shoulders; he can only hope that he's up to the task. He prepared as well as he could for the job and everything it entails, including leading a team made up of strangers, high publicity, potential attempts by the Russians to sabotage the mission, Republicans insisting that he's a traitor for <em>doing his job</em>. None of these are easy to deal with, but they were expected.</p><p>What Steve however did not prepare for was that the two astronauts sent by Russia would be a) famous spies, b) as attractive and beautiful as professional underwear models and c) possibly actually flirting with him. He might be in over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Russia With Love

**Author's Note:**

> Let me not tell you about all my insecurities surrounding this fic. It was a long time writing because I'm ill and got worse, so it was quite a struggle to finish. Finally being able to post it is a bit like I imagine a marathon runner might feel after getting to the finish line (and probably as close as I'll ever get to that experience). I just hope you'll enjoy it.

Steve doesn't mean to be a fucking creep. That doesn't mean anything in the long run, he's well aware, but intention has to mean something too, right?

No it doesn't, and he knows it. But what matters are his actions, and he doesn't act on his highly inappropriate feelings and tries really fucking hard not to let on to them, either. It's the best he can do and he can only hope that it's enough.

 _We're almost through_ , he reminds himself. _Just one week to go._

It tastes a bit sour, after he's spent the past two months of training with the ESA telling himself essentially the same.

"Hey Cap!" Bucky greets him enthusiastically as he floats towards him, looking fucking adorable with his hair in a bun high on his head. Steve wants to die a little inside every time he sees that fucking bun. He never even cared about buns or hair or long hair on men before Bucky, but then the Russian came along, all gorgeous with his bright blue eyes and high cheekbones and stubble dusted on that sharp jawline, face framed by cute strands of dark brown baby hair that floats everywhichway in zero gravity the same as it does planetside and Steve... basically wants to die. Fuck.

"Ready for the big day?" Bucky asks brightly and uses Steve to brake his momentum. The strap loop on Steve's hip, specifically, so he's right in Steve's personal space, and all he does is beam at Steve, happy as a clam, with no intention of moving away to give Steve some more space.

Fuck everything.

Steve puts on a smile, hopes it doesn't look too fake, hopes it somehow disguises the flush rising on his cheeks. "Ready as ever. You?"

"Awaiting breathlessly," Bucky replies and winks. He still hasn't let go of Steve and they did this all the time even in low gravity training, all of them, use each other to steady themselves, so it shouldn't make a difference when Bucky does it, and yet.

And yet.

That's when Natasha floats into view, besocked feet first. Her socks are black with red stars all over them and it's so fucking communist and Steve should not be finding it cute, is pretty sure most of his country would call him a traitor if they knew, but it's fucking cute and he just.

Really. He's so fucking _screwed._

And then Natasha uses Bucky to brake in a manner of speaking, just bumps into him full body, arms wrapping around Bucky's waist, which results in Bucky being pushed even closer into Steve's space. She hooks her chin over Bucky's shoulder and smiles at Steve, small but sweet. He doesn't know where Sam gets off, claiming she never smiles. "Hey, commander. Sleep well?"

He dreamed he slept with them, and not in the literal sense. That flush is not going to leave his face anytime soon, he's such a terrible liar. "Yes. Did you?"

They smirk, and Steve wants to throw himself off a cliff. Except they're in orbit above the moon and even if the moon had cliffs - it doesn't, the best it can offer are deep craters with sharp edges - there's not enough gravity for there to be much of a point to it.

"We had a great night," Bucky grins, and Natasha just smirks sharper.

 _They're your subordinates and you're their commander,_ Steve reminds himself. _Don't be a fucking creep._ It's practically his daily mantra by this point.

Well. The horse kind of has already bolted on that one. Thankfully the others start to slowly trickle in before Steve has to think of some sort of reply to that one; the presence of their co-astronauts is distracting. The energy in the room is palpable; this is it. Their mission. The reason they're here. They all know the script by heart, but Steve still rehashes it: prep, moon landing, post prep, PR, night. The next day, moon boarding, placement of flags, and then they're done. Departure, and then they're going home. 

It'll be fine.

You know. If Natasha and Bucky don't sabotage the mission. Steve doesn't believe they will, but he's been warned by a solid dozen of very important people, up to and including the president of the United States. They all weren't subtle about their suspicions and put them frankly: _watch out for the Russians._ The warnings only got more dire when the identities of the two astronauts became known.

Steve doesn't believe Bucky and Natasha are going to do anything. They've been nothing but nice, submitting to Steve's command as head of the mission, and they're great to talk to too, personable and easy going. Not slavishly obedient, but also not hostile and uncooperative as Steve had feared they might be, before he met them that is.

That's kind of the problem.

Another problem is... Steve doesn't _want_ to believe they'll sabotage. His feelings might very well be clouding his professional judgment here. But fact of the matter is that Natasha is a sleeper agent who spent years working within SHIELD, all the while funneling state secrets to the Russians. Allegedly, sure, but when she was found out she vanished and hasn't been found until she literally appeared on America's national TV screens as one of the two astronauts sent by Russia. A very brazen move. Bucky too isn't an unknown as the son of a couple of famous turncoats who left the US for Russia with their suitcases full of military and state secrets. So it's not like any suspicions are entirely baseless here. That Steve doesn't want it to be true only makes him more suspicious; is he deliberately overlooking signs because of his feelings? His highly unprofessional and inappropriate feelings, at that.

No. He definitely needs to be on the lookout. A mission failure would be disastrous for the US both financially and publicly, and for Steve professionally and personally on top of that.

Especially now, Steve reminds himself. The past two months planetside were just training, learning to work together as a team; sabotage at that stage would by far not be as effective as it would be now, when they're finally in space, almost in the moon's orbit.

Actually, sabotage won't be truly effective until they're on the moon. The best strategy would be to do something then, keep it under the radar until they've left again. They won't' be able to return and fix it, after all.

Okay, so here's what Steve is going to do: he's going to relax until they're literally on the moon, and then he'll keep a close eye on the Russians. If they don't do anything, great. If they do, he'll deal with it when it happens. Until then he's going to remain calm and confident and the good leader he wants to be. And not a fucking creep.

Right. Easy, he would've said three months ago; that was before he actually met Bucky and Natasha. Before he had any interaction with them or even know their faces; before he heard them laugh, heard Natasha's terrible buns or had Bucky's arm thrown companionably over his shoulders, and before he had any sort of conversation with them at all. He's experienced all these things now and can't look at either of them, can't even _think_ of either of them without his heart starting to pound. But no matter the direction his thoughts turn, he hasn't done anything unforgivable and he's going to keep things that way.

Not even twenty-four hours later find Steve in front of the window, helplessly lost and staring. Not at the view out the window, as one might think, considering he's literally on the moon. But he's been here before.

Bucky hasn't, and he's staring out the window with an expression of absolute wonder on his face. Awe makes his eyes sparkle, his face soften, no trace of that teasing grin; it's very well possible Bucky has entirely forgotten that Steve is even there, the way he's glued to the window and staring out. Steve was captivated too, the first time he was here, but ultimately it's pretty boring. The moon is literally gray in gray, and space beyond it is no different than it's been the past couple of days.

But Bucky just keeps looking, to the point where Steve starts to wonder what Bucky is seeing that he isn't, and when it happened that Steve stopped being disenchanted with space. He used to love it, once upon a time. Looking at Bucky makes him wonder when he lost it, and what else he's lost to the incredibly stressful and highly competitive world of astronauts.

If he keeps thinking about that, maybe he'll be able to ignore the pounding in his chest and the sinking feeling in his belly as he realizes something else. Something monumental.

But the fact that he might have lost more to his job than he'd been willing to give is huge too, nevermind that it's a feeling that's been niggling him for a while now.

"Just look at it, Steve," Bucky breathes, not having forgotten about Steve after all. His eyes are bright, so bright when he turns to look at him, an utterly disarming blush to his cheeks. "Isn't it awe-inspiring?"

Steve is incapable of speaking anything but the truth to that face, this man in this moment. "Yes, it is." But he's not talking about the moon.

"Oh boy," Peggy says a few hours later after taking one look at his face. "You're completely gone, aren't you?"

Without his permission, Steve's eyes wander to the other side of the room where Natasha and Bucky are huddled around the window, taking pictures with their tablet and debating which one to post. While Natasha is trying to argue that a picture of just the view out the porthole window would make the most sense Bucky has a preference for selfies and artsy images of Natasha - not that Steve can blame him. Natasha looks like a work of art no matter what expression she's making.

"Yeah," he replies a bit belatedly and a lot forlornly.

Right at that moment Natasha bursts out laughing, something she only ever does with Bucky, and Bucky grins the appropriately victorious grin. Then, while Natasha is still laughing, Bucky snaps a picture, then laughs and twists away when Natasha tries to snatch the tablet away from him. The next five or so minutes consist of a close-quarters fight as Bucky tries to post the picture while Natasha tries to stop him. They only stop when Sam appears and loudly comments that they're disgusting, at which point Natasha stops tickle-punishing Bucky for successfully posting the picture and turns on Sam instead. Sam squawks like a chicken and calls for Gabe to help a brother out and somehow it turns into an all out war. They're grown astronauts having a tickle fight on the moon.

And Bucky squirms away from the chaos and comes straight for Steve.

More than a little alarmed, Steve backs away. "No!"

Instead of being the deterrent as Steve had hoped, that clearly only encourages Bucky, who grins wide and reaches for Steve with both hands like a zombie. Steve twists away, uses the advantage of being near a wall to push off it, but all the momentum in the world – or on the moon, as it were – is of no help if the path isn't obstacle free. For just a moment Steve actually thinks he might get away, then Gabe bumps into him, yelling something in French while trying to twist away from Peggy who was called in earlier to join her sister in arms.

"Hah!" Bucky crows as he bumps into Steve. But he hasn't won yet; the angle is awkward, due to the change in direction Bucky isn't floating hands first anymore so Steve thinks he might be able to use Bucky to push himself off and Bucky away at the same time. A dirty move, sure, but all's fair, right?

Except if anybody knows something about dirty moves, it's got to be Bucky. Instead of trying to curl forward to get at Steve with his hands as Steve had expected and would have been logical, he spreads his legs, wraps them around Steve's hips and clamps down. Then he curls up, a triumphant grin brightening his face.

Steve is completely stunned. He just- those are Bucky's _thighs_ pressing against his pelvis and the small of his back. The insides, even, the most intimate part, knees locked to keep Steve there, and if Steve shifts just a little his hip will push against Bucky's-

Bucky's fingers find Steve ribs and Steve, who can't remember ever having been tickled before in his entire life, finds out that he's ticklish as hell. Not just a little bit, either. The sound that comes out of his mouth is more embarrassing than Sam's chicken squawk earlier, and that's saying something. Bucky freezes in surprise for a moment, then laughs, and that's when things get _real._

Getting tickled is kind of terrible. Even worse when you have an inappropriate crush on the person who's tickling you, you're in zero gravity and they're using their legs to keep the two of you together. Steve shrieks in ways he didn't know he could shriek, squirms and hiccups and giggles and gasps, all that he's capable of doing anymore. His attempts to push Bucky away end up more as helpless flailing than anything actually useful, but the worst part of all of it is that Bucky is laughing too, breathless and happy. The part of Steve that isn't preoccupied with getting tickled is squirming in an entirely different way, brought on by Bucky's beaming face, his bright eyes, his closeness.

Then Sam crashes into them, yelling, "Free for all for the boss!" and suddenly there's about fifty more hands on Steve, wriggling against his ribs and under his arms and he definitely pees himself. His only salvation is the fact that he's wearing an astronaut diaper. It goes on for maybe a minute at most, but it leaves Steve so breathless he gets dizzy. By the point they stop it takes him a moment to realize and actually stop laughing, and that's how he misses what happens between him getting tickled to possible death and him pushed against Bucky's chest, both of Bucky's arms wrapped protectively around him. "That's enough," Bucky is saying, very sternly. One of his hands is on the back of Steve's head, keeping him so close Steve can hear his voice vibrate in Bucky's chest.

God. He's exhausted from the tickling, but this? This is what zaps the last of his strength away from him: being so close to Bucky, wrapped up in his arms, smelling his scent and feeling his warmth and protection.

So, despite knowing that he should, Steve doesn't do a thing to pull away from Bucky. Eyes falling shut, he just focuses on catching his breath and on the sensation of being so close to Bucky, safe in the cradle of his body. And then it gets better – worse – because Natasha joins in, cooing something in Russian, the guttural vowels warm from her voice and comforting somehow as she puts herself on Steve's other side and wraps her arms around him and Bucky both. Her breasts are soft and pillowy against his shoulders and Steve is definitely going to hell.

Somebody else says something and suddenly Bucky and Natasha are pressed even closer against him and they both start laughing and Steve has to move now, he _has_ to, except it turns out he's somehow become the center of a group hug and while everybody is giggling in something close to embarrassment, they're also not letting go.

Well, eventually they do, but not before Steve has wondered if there is a heaven after all and this is it, or if it's hell after all.

At least everybody's feeling kind of awkward when they finally do let go of each other, so nobody notices how Steve is extra awkward. Except maybe they do after all, because Bucky puts both hands on Steve's arms and smiles at him, warm and a little flushed, but not embarrassed. "Alright?"

"Yeah," Steve assures him, voice a little hoarse.

"Милый," Natasha says, and then there's the unmistakable sensation of a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Caught entirely off-guard, Steve turns around but Natasha is already floating away. Still stunned, he turns back to Bucky, who grins at him, winks and then pushes away too – but not before blowing Steve a kiss.

 _This is how I die,_ Steve thinks, perhaps a little hysterically. His heart is beating fast in his chest, like it wants to jump out, so he actually ends up pressing a hand to his sternum like that'll keep it contained as he stares after Bucky. Those besocked feet – light grey with pink and dark blue dots; the fact that Steve is paying attention to _socks_ is a clear sign of just how gone he is – are the last thing he can see as Bucky follows his wife down the corridor, vanishing from sight.

When Steve lowers his gaze, a little bewildered and a lot lost, he finds Peggy looking at him, something knowing in her gaze. Steve just can't face that, not right now, and so he clears his throat and retrieves his tablet, busies himself making some posts to twitter.

Later, he realizes he wrote "This is the most wonderful place I have ever been." At least he had the foresight to attach a picture of the view moonside, so the only person he's not fooling is only himself.

*

"I don't really see what your problem is, to be honest," Sam says. As their medic with a minor in psychology, he can read minds. Steve's, in any case. Though admittedly, Steve has the tendency to whine at Sam; when all of this started Sam was after all the only person Steve knew so he might have spilled his guts to him once or twice. At the beginning Sam was entertained, and then he started wearing his "patience for the white boy" face, and now apparently he's moved on to a serious conversation. "It's clear they're interested in you too."

Steve does not pout, no sir. "You don't know that."

"Uh yeah, I do. Because I have the ability to read people. Are you serious right now? They're all over you at every opportunity. Were you even there yesterday evening, when they pounced on you like they're starving and then cuddled you to death? Man, I almost put up a privacy screen."

"But we don't know if that means what you think it means," Steve argues. Yes, he's thought about it. All last night, in fact, to the point where he's now on his third bag of insta-coffee, and astronaut coffee barely deserves the name. "They're from a different culture. This might be just normal interaction to them, nothing more."

But Sam just shakes his head, again wearing his patience face, with a nice dose of something close to pity to it, too. "If they did it with all of us, yeah, I'd believe that. But Steve, you're the only one they're all over. So I can't help but think that you're doing this to yourself for a different reason. Seriously, Steve, as your friend. What's holding you back?"

For a long moment Steve remains silent; not because he doesn't know what to say but rather that he doesn't know what not to say. Eventually, very quietly, he explains, "I'm their superior. So no matter what, it would be a breach of trust, an abuse of my power and morally wrong. We have no idea what it's like in their country, but in ours, we have rules about this, and they exist for a reason. What if they can't even say no? Or don't know that they're allowed to? Or worse, what if they think this is part of their job? I know I'm a terrible liar, Sam, I bet I'm already making them uncomfortable as it is."

"Don't be such a republican, Steve," Sam chides after a moment. "You have a point, but you're going a bit too far with it. We might be on the moon, but come back down to earth. Do you honestly think they wouldn't say no if something happened they didn't like? Natasha and Bucky, of the 'knocking you out with nothing more than our thighs'? Come on."

"The fact remains. We have no idea what it's like in Russia. And it would absolutely be an abuse of my power, regardless."

"True, but you're only their commander for the duration of the mission, they were very particular about that, if you recall. Granted, it's better to keep your own counsel right now, but the moment we touch back down we're all equals and your point is moot. But you're all but torturing yourself over this. Take it from me, as your friend. You're taking this too far."

Steve shrugs a bit. "Maybe. But I prefer this over the alternative."

There's nothing left for Sam to say to that. 

*

After that conversation with Sam, Steve pushes all thoughts on the matter aside and focuses only on the mission. The day of the flag posting they make a brief video for their official social media sites, moon as the backdrop, plus a couple of pictures, and somehow Bucky manages to make it look like a professional affair without any of the hour long fussing that Steve knows would usually go into it. No matter his actual profession (is spy a profession?), his cover as mission marketing expert had been chosen well. 

Then it's time. "Alright, everyone, suit up, we have forty-three minutes until Time," Steve announces, and they all make their way to the storage room to get their space suits. It's pretty foolish to all suit up and step out, a waste of resources if nothing else, but it's part of this deal. More than anything, this is a PR mission. As per his duties, Bucky films them and chatters away at the camera while the rest of them dress up, then hands Natasha the camera while he puts his own suit on. Noticing Steve watching, he winks at him, then explains, "The more footage we have of this, the better. The higher the chance of good quality, and the more to edit with, even if I'm talking nonsense; we can always do voiceover later."

Steve tries to muster up a smile, but fears it comes across as more plasticky than anything else. "That's nice."

Bucky grins, then puts on the helmet. He's the last one to get dressed; Gabe performs the security check for him, then takes the camera over from Natasha while Bucky gets the outdoor camera.

"Everybody ready?"

"Yes, sir!" Bucky bellows, sending Steve a shit-eating grin. Is it just Steve, or is Bucky a little manic right now? Nerves, perhaps? Whatever he and Natasha have planned, they've got to pull it off in the next three to five hours.

Steve still isn't sure what they're up to, not even what they _might_ be up to, and it makes him even more tense. So he does his best to keep his attention close on the two of them as they enter the moon's atmosphere, filmed by both Bucky and Sam, and approach the designated site where they're supposed to plant their flags. It's an entire new place, nowhere anyone has been before, so there are no other footsteps or leftover tech to disturb the view, and any other time it would make Steve breathless. For maximum effect it's been timed, so as they approach the site they also walk towards the Earth in the background, half-lit, half in shadows. The sun is above them, ensuring minimum shadows with maximum view, and Sam and Bucky set the cameras up, then join the others doing things like measuring the spacing and drilling holes. Except that's not what Bucky does straight away.

While Sam heads for where Steve, Natasha and Peggy are setting up, Bucky instead makes for Sam's camera, and fuck, Steve can't see what he's doing. Is he turning it off? Ruining the shot? Doing something else? Technically, all the footage shot during this missions belongs to all mission participating countries equally, but that doesn't mean that's what's going to happen. Bucky's camera belongs to the Russian Federation.

Cursing inwardly, Steve watches as Bucky fiddles with the camera, doing _something_ with it. That much is clear. But what?

No other option than trying to find out. Handing the flag equipment to Sam without a word, Steve makes his way over to Bucky who in that moments abandons the camera and heads for Steve. Another red flag.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asks, voice slightly off. Is that just the radio disturbance or something else?

"Yes," Steve says tightly. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Bucky replies, shrug audible in his voice. "Just checking on Wilson's camera work. Had to make sure he wouldn't mess up the shots."

"Fuck you too," Sam shoots back easily. By this point Steve and Bucky meet in the middle and that's at the latest when Steve should turn around and walk back with Bucky, but he can't. He just can't. He has to check. This is the most important part of their mission; if he fails this, he'll be completely ruined.

So Steve, with no back-up explanation as to why, walks past Bucky and towards the camera.

"What's up?" Bucky asks, sounding startled.

Steve takes another step, then sees that the camera's red light is still going, so it's not off. But Bucky still might have ruined the shot somehow, changed the angle or sharpness of the picture, so Steve has to keep going. His entire career – his life, even – depend on it.

So he replies, vague, "Nothing, I just want to see," and checks the camera's settings. Sure, he's no expert, but from what he can tell everything seems to be okay. Then, in the hope of making this seem like a normal mission commander type check-up, he walks over to Bucky's camera to check that one too. It too seems alright, unsurprisingly, and is recording as well, so Steve heads back to where the others are already done digging the holes.

"Just waiting on you, Cap," Sam says, and Steve is glad for the sun covers that mean he can't see any of their faces.

"Position, then," Steve orders and they all shuffle around a bit as they try to arrange a good set-up for the cameras. Once it's ensured they're all in the frame and nobody in front of anybody else they check in with ground control, and the livestream is set in motion.

Honestly, it's a bit of a blur for Steve; he's too focused on trying not to not fuck this up, trying to keep an eye on Bucky and Natasha, trying not to panic which will result in him fucking up for sure. But somehow, they all get the poles in their drilled holes, secured, and then the flags attached. They all manage their scripts and nobody steps on anybody's toes, literally or metaphorically, and the whole show finishes up smoothly with no hiccups.

Bucky and Natasha don't do a thing. They're charming, making a few jokes in several languages but nothing inappropriate about the situation, and don't even try to claim more of the speaking time than would be fair. There is literally nothing they do wrong, and while Steve's anxiety abates, something more terrible wells up in him: the dawning realization of what he just did. How much he's wronged them.

It makes him silent, but apparently he's been unusually silent today anyway, because once all the theater is done, cameras shut off and all of them on their way back to the ground station, Sam asks, "Steve, man, you okay?"

"I'm fine," is Steve's kneejerk response, a finality in his voice that's come about from responding before he could think more than anything else. It makes all of them fall silent where before they'd been cheerful from a mission well done and that makes Steve feel even more guilty, how he ruined their mood, but he has no idea how to change it. How to take it back.

He wishes he could.

As they take off their suits the mood slowly recovers but they're still a little subdued, throwing Steve a glance here and there as they file out of the room to store their suits. And somehow it happens that Steve and Natasha are the last two people left. It's not an accident; Steve sees Bucky engage Sam but it doesn't occur to him it's a distraction tactic in order to get Sam out of the room until he realizes he's alone with Natasha.

"Steve," she says gently, puts her hand on his arm. "What's wrong? You've been tense all day."

Shit. She and Bucky are the absolute last people Steve can talk to about this, but just as he thinks that he also realizes that they're probably the first he should talk to, too. He owes them an apology.

But he's a coward, too: they don't even know he ought to apologize to them. As far as they know he did nothing wrong, so why should he tell them? It will only hurt them and make them be angry with Steve. Which he deserves, yes, but right now things are so nice. So easy. He doesn't want to disturb that.

He's been silent for too long. Natasha squeezes his arm, steps a bit closer. "I realize that on you lay most of the responsibility for this mission's success. It must have been very stressful. All day you were like you were waiting for something to go wrong, but nothing did and now you can-" Abruptly, she falls silent, stares at him, and Steve can practically see her thoughts race. He winced when she correctly pinpointed the reason for his behavior, and how she's looking at him, a dawning realization on her face. "You were," she breathes. "You were waiting for something to go wrong. You were waiting- you were waiting for us, for Bucky to do something, weren't you? That's why you checked on the cameras after he put them up."

And Steve has never been a good liar. He can evade and distract, but outright lie? Not a talent of his.

So Natasha sees the truth on his face, and abruptly she lets go of his arm, takes a step back. Where before concern softened her features she now looks blank, and pale.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispers miserably. "Everybody kept telling me to watch out-"

"For the Russians," she interrupts loudly. Her voice is indignant, but her face reveals a deeper hurt, pain that Steve dealt her. "Was this not meant to be a peace mission? A mission of new beginning?"

Again, Steve flinches. "I know, and I'm sorry. It's just... everybody kept warning me and this is so important-"

"Exactly," Natasha snaps, cold as ice now as she retreats into herself. "This was very important." The hurt in her eyes conveys that she's not just talking about the mission; it's the last thing Steve sees of Natasha before her face closes off completely. "I did not take you for the sort of person who takes on other people's opinions instead of forming his own. It seems that I was wrong."

With that, she turns around and leaves.

Nauseated and with dawning horror, Steve stares after her, stares at the empty doorway with just one thought in his head: she's right.

Eventually, sluggishly, he sets to follow her, not even to talk to her but because their job isn't fully done yet: the whole crew will be waiting for him for a debrief, and as much as Steve wants too roll up tight in a corner somewhere or perhaps bang his head against the wall a little, he has a job to do. This is not the time to be dramatic.

It's a mantra he repeats to himself over and over as he makes his way to the conference room; the thought of having to face Natasha and Bucky right now makes him sick. But he's been a coward enough for one day, and so he forces himself to keep walking, the low moon gravity barely enough to keep his feet on the ground even as he feels as if weighted down by stones on the inside.

They're all inside, and by their expressions they all know something is up. But while Sam, Peggy and Gabe make an effort to pretend like nothing is wrong, Natasha and Bucky don't bother. Natasha clearly told Bucky what transpired, not that Steve even remotely thought that she wouldn't; Bucky looks pale, face closed off as well, and while Natasha glares at Steve Bucky won't even raise his head to look at him.

Shit. He really hurt them.

Of course he did; what did he think? That they wouldn't mind?

He didn't think. That's the entire problem.

"Captain?" Sam nudges him gently and Steve starts, swallows and closes his eyes. Takes a moment to summon all his strength, focuses on his professionalism, and starts the meeting.

Normally, he likes to keep things a little less strict, lets them joke around and veer off-topic sometimes, but nobody even thinks to do that now. Steve's aware of it even while it's happening, while he's doing it, but there's nothing he can do to stop it. He's hanging by a very thin thread, and addressing his team by their ranks and last names is what's helping him keep it intact.

Of course, it's also a very clear indicator that something is wrong, that something transpired between him and Natasha, but nobody says a word about it. When Steve ends the meeting with a clipped "dismissed" Natasha and Bucky are the first out of the room. Steve looks up just in time to see that they're holding hands so tightly their knuckles are white, then they're gone and for a moment he can't breathe.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Another. The weight of a hand rests on his shoulder and then Sam says quietly, "Something bad happened, right?"

Steve squeezes his eyes shut tighter; his next exhale is shaky. "I fucked up, Sam. I fucked up real bad."

Turns out that his apprehension about today wasn't wrong; he just watched the entirely wrong people, and now he's paying for it.

Except it's so much worse than that. If Steve had dealt a hurt only to himself, that would be acceptable. But he hurt Bucky and Natasha even worse than that, and that's not something he's going to accept anytime soon.

The following three days are excruciating. Bucky and Natasha are completely professional; they aren't passive aggressive at all, reply to Steve's questions promptly and address him without issue when required. But there's no warmth in them when Steve is involved. Their voices are clipped when speaking to him and though they visibly try not to let it affect the rest of the crew, there's no way to prevent that from happening; everybody knows that something went wrong. Everybody knows that Steve did something.

Sam listened very somberly when Steve explained it to him, and then he said slowly, picking his words carefully, "You fucked up, Steve. But that doesn't make you a horrible person."

It's a comfort Steve doesn't think he deserves.

They return to Earth and everything goes smoothly: re-entry, getting picked up, and they all manage to pull off happy faces for the press aboard the ship sent to collect them, a European vessel in international waters, the most diplomatic solution that could be found. Then they each get their cabins assigned and Steve doesn't see Bucky and Natasha again for the next three days as they return to shore. Deboarding the ship is another photo op, they all in their special uniforms designed specifically for this mission, and then there's three more days of mandatory press and debriefing. Throughout all this time Natasha and Bucky both manage to perfectly pull off a show of nothing being wrong so long as a camera is pointed at them; they'll look at Steve, smile in his direction, give no indication of anything being wrong. But as soon as the scrutiny stops they do their best to get away from Steve.

And Steve? Steve feels sick with the knowledge that this is the worst thing he has ever done to a person. He's fucked up before, of course, but never has he wronged somebody as much as he's wronged Natasha and Bucky. When they finally get to board a plane and go home to Moscow they're probably happier than they've been in a week and Steve, on his own plane home to DC, hopes for their sake that they won't have to deal with him ever again.

"Oh, come off it," Sam snaps at him irritably when Steve voices that thought. "This is not the end of the world. Yeah, you fucked up, but there's much worse things than not trusting somebody when you should have. You act like you killed their baby."

Stung, Steve shakes his head. "Sam, I really hurt them."

But Sam has clearly run out of patience; he just rises one eyebrow at Steve. "Have you even apologized to them?"

Called out on it like that, all the fight drains out of Steve. "They don't want to see me."

"So you haven't even tried." Sam is merciless. "Do I need to spell your options out for you?"

Gaze settled on the ground, Steve silently shakes his head.

Something about his expression must melt some of Sam's irritation away, because he sighs and puts a hand on Steve's shoulder. "They really mean a lot to you, do they?"

Just that one question immediately brings countless memories to the forefront of Steve's mind, from the mundane to something deeper, more significant. The way Natasha tucks her hair behind her ears when she's focusing, Bucky's efforts to engage Steve in conversation or some other shared activity, the way they crack jokes in order to make him laugh – now, in hindsight and with a little bit of distance, Steve sees what he couldn't then: that something was happening. They were flirting with him, Steve is pretty sure of it now, and knowing that makes him feel even worse for what he did. For throwing it all back in their faces. Because if he wasn't outright flirting back, he still doesn't think he was at all subtle in signaling his interest in them in return.

Sam's hand squeezes his shoulder tightly, reclaiming Steve's attention, and then Sam's other hand is on his other shoulder and Sam leans in to look him straight in the eyes. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Steve blinks once, then twice, then abruptly realizes that what he's doing right now is only going to make it worse. There's no way to make it better, not really, but moping has never helped anybody. He needs to apologize to them; he owes them. If they accept his apology or not is another matter, but they deserve at least that much.

"There you go," Sam says, releasing him. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to apologize," Steve replies, and even as he says it he realizes another thing: he's going to have to do it in person. That they'll probably be listened in on if he does it on the phone or in writing is secondary; a face to face apology is the only way to go. He's been a coward for long enough. Time to face the music.

Of course, that's easier said than done. Because Bucky and Natasha are in Russia and Steve is in America and their countries do not allow each other's citizens entry. They're no ordinary citizens either, and Steve doesn't know if that's going to make things easier or harder, but he's going to try anyway.

First he contacts his commanding officer to request leave; they are _not_ happy. Right now Steve is extremely popular and well-known in the country and internationally, and of course they want to use that as best they can. His request is denied, and Steve is already drafting his resignation when Sam suggests contacting their PR people first. Because that's the sort of thing they have now: PR people.

"That explains that, then," Darcy, a member of the team, says dryly after Steve has laid out what he intends to do, and why. At least a little bit why, anyway.

"Explains what?" Steve repeats dumbly.

"Steve, I know we've talked about this, but your poker face is... well, it's weak. People have noticed. We've been working on it and so far everybody is too excited about what's happening to talk much about how you look like you pooped your pants, but it's come up every now and then. You should've told us."

Steve frowns. "I like to keep my private life private, Darcy. We've talked about that, too."

"And talking to us about it is the best way to ensure that's going to happen," she replies, eyeroll audible. That's what Steve doesn't like about PR: in order to preserve is privacy, he's going to have to discuss his business with strangers first. "Well, whatever. Learning experience, blah blah. You want to go to Russia? We can make that happen."

Steve is skeptical, but the next day she calls him to lay out her plan. When she's done he looks at his resignation letter, laid out on his desk, and decides not to sign it just yet.

It's very simple, Darcy says, like they're not talking about seventy years of, mildly put, tense a relationship. The first step is to make Steve traveling to Russia attractive for people on their end, which they'll do by pointing out that it might be the first baby steps towards a loosening of the complete entry ban. Steve is not a civilian, but he also isn't a diplomat, which will be a first in several decades. Then they have to convince people on the Russian end, which they do by offering a return visit for Bucky and Natasha, which considering the fact that Natasha is technically still a wanted fugitive in the United States is a pretty big concession. Everybody also likes the idea of getting more PR out of this whole mission, so apart from some diplomatic haggling, it's relatively easy to get everyone to agree. Relatively quickly too, because for them to capitalize on the mission's fame, the mission still needs to be famous enough for people to care.

It still takes six weeks before everyone has agreed, because diplomacy, but at least when they've taken that hurdle things suddenly move lightening fast. They really do, though; the day the deal is signed and sealed Sam and Steve receive orders to pack: they're going to go to Russia. In three days.

Now, Steve had six weeks to worry about this, but he worried as much about whether this was even going to happen as he did about what he'd do when it'd happen, so when it does he's somehow still caught off-guard. At least he doesn't have time to freak out about it, because his higher ups then try to cram probably a diplomat's entire training into three days for him.

This time, Steve doesn't listen when they tell him to be careful, watch out, and focuses instead on the "how not to step onto anybody's toes" part. The last thing he wants is to offend somebody and have them throw him out of the country before he's made it to Natasha and Bucky's to apologize.

And fuck. Apologize. He's going to have to do that, and it's going to have to be a good one too because it's been two months; shit, will they even be willing to hear him out? Why would they, though? It's been _two months._

Suffice to say, Steve is a complete nervous wreck by the time he meets up with Sam in the airport.

"Man, you look like shit," is Sam's comment, and he's absolutely right. Steve hasn't even slept last night, too keyed up from trying to figure out what to say to them. "I'm sorry" really doesn't cut it; it's barely the beginning.

"You realize you won't get to talk to them straight off the plane, right?" Sam points out after Steve has tried to lay out to him why he's so nervous.

Helplessly, Steve pulls up his shoulders. "Yes, but... I'll have to, eventually. It's kind of literally why I'm there, really."

"Better not say that once we're on the jet, might be bugged," Sam jokes – not that he's wrong. "Now put on your public face." He gestures ahead, where some of their PR people are waiting along with some other officials. Because of course they can't just fly over to Russia; there aren't even commercial flights, they have to take a private jet. And of course everyone has to make a big production out of that.

And there aren't even any make-up people, but Steve somehow still ends up with a face full of it. He really must have looked awful if someone was willing to donate their private stash to the cause of making him look less like he's about to keel over.

But by this point Steve is something of an expert at this, and so he has a bunch of canned responses at the ready even while his brain is firing at half speed at best. He smiles and says empty things that are of symbolic importance, yes, but he's been saying the same kind of stuff for years now and by this point he just. He _hates_ it.

They make it through security and then get on the plane, and there Steve finally gets to wash the make-up off. One look in the mirror afterwards shows him how pale he looks, dark shadows under his eyes, but at least it's his real face, not some facsimile of it.

And okay. Maybe Sam is not wrong when he says that Steve has a tendency for the dramatic.

He needs to take a step back and calm down. No solutions are going to be found while he's like this. So here's what he's going to do: have a good few hours of sleep on the plane, and then he'll use the remaining time to figure out what to say to Natasha and Bucky. "I'm sorry" is as good a start as any, anyway.

That's the plan, anyway. What actually ends up happening is that Steve is woken, blurry and kind of dazed, by Sam, who shakes his shoulder and says, "We're about to land, Steve, you've got to put your seatbelt on."

So much for that plan. Twenty minutes later they're ushered off the plane by some assistants who frown at Steve's hair, though at least this time nobody puts any make-up on him. Which of course doesn't mean that there aren't more photo ops, and inspiring speeches.

That's not the worst part, though. That's the fact that Bucky and Natasha are there too, to officially welcome them to the Russian Federation, and it's like a punch to the gut. Seeing them so unexpectedly, though in hindsight that's probably dumb and on him.

It's like Steve somehow forgot how gorgeous they are in the two months of separation, which he never would've thought possible, but here it is. Steve has no fucking clue what the two of them would want with somebody like him. Sure, he doesn't have to hide his face or anything, but Natasha and Bucky are in a wholly different league. They're the type of people whose picture ends up on the cover of fashion magazines without an ounce of photoshop having been done to it.

They smile at him now, hug him and give him those air kisses they always give as greetings, but their eyes are closed; public. They're using their public faces on him.

Steve deserves it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.

After the publicity circus is over they're stuffed in a car and taken to a fancy lunch with the president-equivalent of the Russian Federation, Zaretsky, and some other important people. It, of course, is highly publicized as well.

They don't get a break. After lunch they tour the Kreml, and Steve does his best to look impressed and appreciative and not stare at Bucky and Natasha. No matter how much he wants to.

Later in the pictures Steve finds that he's failed more than he thought he had, but at the same time done better than expected, too, so it's a win-win. Or lose-lose, depending on how you look at it. Considering how Steve looks way more rumbled than he should for the occasion, having slept in his dress shirt and not thought to switch it out for a fresh one, it's probably more the latter than the former.

Thankfully they at least have the evening off – after another meal with important people, of course. But what Steve doesn't consider is that in the time between him and Sam getting into the car that'll take them to their hotel and them arriving, Natasha and Bucky will go to their own home. Which of course they do. They live here; they don't need to stay in a hotel.

And he has no clue where they live. On the off-chance that somehow, Sam might know, he asks, but Sam just shakes his head. "Sorry, man. No clue. It never came up."

Maybe Steve should let it rest for today; he's completely exhausted, just wants to go to bed and-

No. He didn't come here to sleep: he came to talk to Bucky and Natasha. Any delay is just trying to postpone the inevitable, and he's already spent way too much time being a coward.

So Steve takes a deep breath and calls their aide. She, of course, doesn't know where the Barnes-Romanovs live either and seems a bit skeptical at Steve's hastily made-up lie of how he has Bucky's phone and needs to give it back to him right away.

"He'll surely needs it," Steve tells her earnestly.

Quite sensibly, she points out, "It probably can wait until tomorrow."

But Steve is not overly inclined to make sense right now. "But what if he isn't there tomorrow? They're not included in all the things we do, right?" As far as Steve knows, though, they pretty much are, so he quickly tacks on, "I really don't want anyone to accuse me of stealing; you never know, if things go sour that might happen. I'd like to get this cleared up right away, you know how important this is, diplomatically. After decades of Cold War, we can't afford to slip up even a little."

"Alright, Captain Rogers," she agrees, still a bit reluctant but also resigned. "I'll see what I can do."

Steve does make sure to thank her profusely, but he doesn't feel guilty. And just ten minutes after their conversation, the aide calls him back and gives him Bucky and Natasha's address, cautioning him that it's highly secret, there's security, and it really would be better if he waited for tomorrow after all.

Of course Steve has no intention of doing so. Still in the clothes he spent the whole day in, he calls the hotel reception to ask them to call him a taxi, quickly checks in with Sam to tell him where he's going and then heads downstairs. His Russian isn't the best, but good enough to communicate with the taxi driver, and just twenty minutes later the taxi rolls to a stop in probably the right building. It's the right address, in any case.

Right. Showtime.

Beyond nervous by this point, Steve still does his best to appear calm; he doesn't want to alarm the security person. Thankfully, the security guard is up to date on current events and recognizes Steve's face, so Steve doesn't need to do much convincing to be let into the building, which really just gets him to the doorbells downstairs.

He rings, and waits.

"Дa?"

Despite the fact that he's been literally waiting for it, Steve still startles at the sound of Bucky's voice. "Uhm, Bucky? It's me, Steve." There's a moment of silence that, when Bucky says nothing, Steve fills by hastily continuing, "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment? Please?"

Another silence, longer this time. And it's not that Steve hasn't considered this scenario before but fuck, what if they don't want to let him in? It's their right, of course, but how is Steve to talk to them and apologize if they don't even want to talk to him in private?

But of course, there's absolutely no obligation for them to let him in. Still, it would be devastating to be sent away now.

Thankfully, that doesn't happen. After an inordinately long silence the speaker crackles again and Bucky says, "Come in." Somehow even through the disturbance of bad house speakers his voice sounds completely flat. The door buzzer afterwards is so unexpected Steve startles, but then he hastily pushes the door open. Inside there's no indication on which floor Bucky and Natasha are so he hesitantly makes his way to the stairs and slowly starts to climb them.

This is what Steve has been waiting for for one and a half months. This moment. This opportunity to explain himself, to apologize to Natasha and Bucky, whom he's both wronged. It's a chance he's been praying to get every day for over seven weeks, and now his mind is completely blank.

Fuck.

On the third floor Steve sees an open door as he peeks down the hall and, heart pounding in his chest, he slowly makes his way towards it.

Natasha is leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, expression very cool.

"Hey," Steve offers and tries for a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace so he drops it again quickly.

"What do you want?" Natasha asks, voice flat, and for some reason she's put on a slight Russian accent.

"I, uhm. I'm here to apologize, I- uhm, could I come in? It's okay if not," Steve hastily tacks on because as much as he'd prefer not having to do this in the hallway, he's not going to pressure her to let him into their home, their safe space.

For what feels like half an eternity, Natasha just stares at him. Her eyes, so cool and expressionless, make him want to squirm, but he holds it back, manages to even keep meeting her gaze – mostly. Eventually, finally, she pushes off the doorway and steps aside. "Very well."

This is probably as much of an invitation as he's going to get; Steve doesn't squander it and immediately enters. As he passes Natasha he smiles at her again, this time more genuinely if only from relief. "Thanks."

She just closes the door with more force than necessary, the bang serving to remind Steve of how much he's fucked up.

Not that he needed the reminder. Bucky at that moment shows up in the doorway between the hall and whatever room it leads to; neither of them invite him in further. Both their expressions are closed, and Natasha has her arms crossed in a way that looks more like she's hugging herself than anything else.

"I'm sorry," Steve blurts out after a brief, tense silent. Then he closes his eyes in self-recrimination, because that is not at all how he meant to say that.

Taking a deep breath, he opens his eyes and starts again. "Thank you for giving me the chance to explain myself. I know I really fucked up, and I'm just very, very sorry for how much I hurt you." Fists clenched, he lowers his gaze. It might be cowardly, but he can't look either of them in the face right now, not with what he's got to say next. "I- I think I owe you an explanation at least as much as an apology, that's why I'm here. I just- it was nothing that you did, it wasn't your fault, anything of it. It's entirely on me. I... I think I have to start at the beginning. When I-"

"Sit down," Bucky interrupts him abruptly. He and Natasha exchange an unreadable look, then Bucky steps aside, a clear invitation.

Steve looks up to meet his eyes and manages a brief smile, more a stretching of his lips really, then makes his way past Bucky into what turns out to be a living room.

Why would Bucky offer him this? Neither him nor Natasha give anything away and that in itself is a clear indication that they don't want Steve here.

Well, whatever the reason, Steve is grateful for the respite. It gives him the chance to collect himself at least a little, try to focus on what he wants to say: an explanation, he reminds himself. That's all they want to hear, they don't need any attempts at justifying himself.

Alright. Taking a deep breath, Steve forces himself to look straight at them where they've sat down across from him. "I was a coward, and I was in well over my head. I shouldn't have been given command; I'm not qualified, I don't have enough experience under my belt. I don't know why they decided to make me the commander, maybe because I sound great on paper but I'm too young to have fought in any of the wars, so diplomatically I'd look best. I don't know, I can only speculate. But I wasn't ready – clearly." He snorts and shakes his head in self-recrimination. "It was too much responsibility, but instead of declining the post as I should've, I tried to do it anyway. And I... you..." Cheeks warming, Steve now does have to lower his gaze again after all. "I, when I met you, I started to... well I'm attracted to both of you, you're both gorgeous, but you're also both brilliant and fun to be around and I just... I. I didn't know how to deal with that. And I didn't try to figure it out, either. I was too busy being in denial. And... this doesn't have anything to do with you personally, but with your histories, you have to know that from the American side it looked like a bit of a provocation that they sent you. And I knew that and everybody – _almost_ everybody – kept telling me that I had to watch out, that I'm responsible for the success of the mission, and that you surely were planning to sabotage the mission somehow.

"I... I realize now how paranoid this is. I mean, both of our sides have a lot of history of sabotage and spying and underhanded tactics, but that doesn't mean you can't be genuinely interested in making peace now, just like we are. Not to mention that all that doesn't have much to do with either of you personally. I should've, after meeting you and getting to know you two better, I should've known better too, but I was too overwhelmed, and too cowardly to face up to that. I just... lost my head, and I hurt you both a lot in the process, and I'm very sorry. I know I fucked up, and I can't take any of it back. You don't have to forgive me, but if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know. And, yeah. That's. What I cam here to say." Cringing at his own awkwardness, Steve quickly gets to his feet. "I'll stop bothering you now. I'm sorry. And, and thanks again for letting me in and hearing me out."

Quickly, Steve makes his way out the door, closing it behind him as gently as he can. They don't try to stop him, but he didn't expect them to anyway.

Once the door is shut and he's back in the hallway Steve takes a deep breath, feels himself sag a little. Maybe he should feel relieved now, mission accomplished, this is what he came here for, but instead he just feels... sad. Disappointed in himself. This, the person he was when he hurt them, that's never who he wanted to be.

As soon as he's home he'll send in his resignation, just like he planned to when they refused to give him leave. It isn't really the military's fault. Steve let himself take on their paranoia and make it his own. But that isn't something he ever wants to do again, especially not since he didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late. He used to trust his own ability to read people, and he's never been proven wrong; he needs to learn to trust himself again and he won't be able to do that while in the service.

It's with such melancholy thoughts that Steve, having decided to take the stairs over the elevator, arrives down in the foyer of the house – only to find Bucky there, waiting for him. Bucky clearly did take the elevator.

"Steve," he says. "Come back up. We need to talk."

Completely caught off-guard, Steve can't do anything except do as he's told. The elevator ride back up is completely silent because Steve can't figure out for the hell of him what to say; anything he can think of (why? Are you okay? Is anything wrong?) would send the wrong message. So his brain is left with the option of freaking out wondering just how badly he fucked up. Not to mention trying to figure out where he went wrong, what he did.

Of course, the short ride to the third floor isn't by far enough time to figure anything out. It's just enough time for him to paint some kind of worst case scenario where they're going to tell him that they hate him and never want to see him again and he's a bad person.

Natasha is still sitting on the sofa that Bucky guides him back to, and once Steve has sat down where he sat before he can't stay silent a moment longer. "What- is. What's wrong?" Then he cringes. What's wrong? Really? Other than the fact that he really hurt them? Seriously.

Bucky and Natasha exchange a glance, and then it's Natasha who speaks. "We have discussed this. We...  
accept your apology. There was a lot of responsibility on all of us, but on you most of all. It... what you did hurt a lot, but we have decided to give you another chance."

She glances at Bucky then, who takes that as his cue to continue, "We didn't talk enough, before, we think. Everything was unspoken and I think that's what went wrong the most. So we want to give it a try, but this time without anything being unspoken. That's why we have decided to let you take us on a date."

For three whole seconds, Steve just stares at the two of them. Did he hear that right? A _date_? He? Them? They want that, after what he did?

...really?

He doesn't realize he blurted that last one out until Natasha and Bucky exchange another look, and then Natasha elaborates, "You asked us what you can do to make amends. Well, this is it: a date. You may take us out on one date."

"One?" Steve repeats, and it slips out accidentally, because of all the questions he has, this is probably the most pertinent one.

Except one corner of Natasha's mouth quirks up while Bucky snorts. "We'll see."

This is a test, Steve realizes abruptly. One date.

No pressure.

*

"Steve, if you don't sit your ass down right this instant and take a deep breath I'm gonna knock you out," Sam snaps. It takes a lot for Sam to snap, so Steve obeys and sits his ass down. For three seconds. Then he jumps right back up as he abruptly realizes that he should- "Steve!"

He sits down again, but is already talking. "But what if it's too flashy or too fancy or too demonstrative for them? I really think I should go for something more private after all-"

"As you decided two hours ago? And then reconsidered?" Sam points out, voice more sharp than patient by this point. "Steve. Take a deep breath, I mean it. Right now, with me: inhale."

Steve doesn't have _time_ to breathe, there's still so much he needs to figure out, but even he realizes how stupid that sounds when he catches the thought, so he does as he's told. And while the nervous energy doesn't go away as he follows along to Sam's deep breathing instructions, it at least evens out a little and he feels less like he's going to jump out of his skin.

"Alright," Sam eventually says. "Good. Now tell me, did you talk to the restaurant?"

"Yes," Steve immediately confirms. "You know that, I-"

Sam interrupts him with a quick shake of his head. "Just answer the questions. So you've talked to the restaurant. What are you going to wear?"

"That," Steve gestures over to the coat hanger bearing the shirt and slacks he and Sam painstakingly picked out earlier.

He's starting to sense a trend here.

"What gifts are you going to bring them?"

"Flowers and something sweet," Steve recites obediently.

Encouraging, Sam nods. "Where are you going to get these?"

"I already got them." Steve points to the dresser that holds a vase with a flower arrangement and the two bags, one each containing caramelized almonds for Natasha and the specific type of caramels Bucky would wax lyrical about whenever he thought of them. Which was often, because Bucky has a sweet tooth.

"Great. And did you actually ask them out?" That question is a bit pointed, because just as they sat down for an interview Steve realized abruptly that he in fact hadn't, and he had to excuse himself immediately to take care of that straight away. Luckily Bucky had been amused more than anything at the short notice, and not perturbed at all.

However, in the rush Steve left Sam alone to dodge the interviewers pointed questions about Steve's absence. Steve ducks his head at the memory. "Yes."

"Good. I'd hate to think the lunch break we spent looking for these was wasted." Sam raises an eyebrow pointedly.

Shit. In hindsight, yeah, Steve was probably a bit annoying today... would've been last night, too, but by the time Steve got back from Natasha and Bucky's Sam was in bed and Steve was a good enough friend at least not to wake him.

Well, he kind of has the feeling that he made up for that by being extra obnoxious today. Luckily none of the interviews they did was in front of a camera; his nerves would've been obvious. And neither did he have to do anything official today, because it's very likely he would've messed up somehow.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I've been a bit of a mess today and I dragged you into it, I'm sorry."

"Aw, man, no, that's not what I meant." Sam reaches out and touches Steve's arm. "I just think it's time for you to calm down. You've got everything taken care of, it'll be fine. All you have to do is take a shower, get dressed and go. This isn't a test."

"But it is," Steve protests.

Pausing for a moment, Sam mulls that over. Then he nods. "Alright, I grant you that, it's a bit like a test, if any first date is a test. But come on, man, you know Bucky and Natasha. They're good people. All you have to do is not be an asshole, and I think you got about a lifetime of assholeishness covered last time we saw them so you probably filled the quota already."

Steve doesn't even put up a token protest to that, because he knows that Sam is right.

After one look at Steve's expression Sam sighs. "Come on, Steve. It's over and done with. You fucked up, but you realized it and apologized for it. In the right way, too, if what you tell me is true, and anyways if they hadn't wanted to, they wouldn't have told you to take them on a date. They're willing to give you another chance, not an opportunity to grovel."

Right. Hopefully. ...probably, actually, because while Natasha did say it was an opportunity for him to make it up to them, they were also very clear when they said it was a date, so Steve probably shouldn't approach it like it's confession time.

It's a thought he focuses on as he gets ready. It keeps him from fussing with his looks overly much, but not enough, at least according to Sam's complaining. Though if Steve had more time he'd spend it on fixing his hair; he's never really sure what to do with it, can never get it to look right.

But as it is, he doesn't have a ton of time on hand. He's actually here to work, after all, and he spent most of the time between the last interview and when he has to leave fretting about messing up.

He's already messed up, he reminds himself when the thought tries to make him anxious again. And he learned from that and is now probably not as likely to fuck up again. Hopefully.

For once, everything seems to be going smoothly. He doesn't get stuck in traffic and arrives at the restaurant with enough time; the hostess informs him that his guests aren't there yet and then leads him to the private room they offered him last minute. Banking on the fame of hosting the famous American astronaut, plus their two beloved Russian astronauts. For once Steve didn't hesitate to use his fame; he tries not to wonder whose reservation they bumped down for him. They probably got well compensated, and Steve really can't take Bucky and Natasha on a cheap date, or a too public one. Private room in this expensive shindig it had to be. (Plus, the receptionist that recommended this place to Steve and arranged the last-minute room for him probably got a nice commission out of it too, and he deserves it for all the fast talking he had to do. Steve was there, there was a lot of it.)

They even bring him a vase for the flowers, and the water he asks for comes in some fancy glass bottle and is probably imported from some special place because rich people can't just drink tap water. But, well. Steve wants to show Natasha and Bucky how serious he is about this, that he isn't ashamed of being seen wining and dining them in public but that he at the same time values their privacy.

Yes, he may have spent the whole night thinking about this before asking the receptionist for a referral.

It's all worth it, he knows this even before Bucky and Natasha show up, but damn, was it worth it is all he can think when they step into the room. They look- they look-

Stunning. They coordinated their outfits, both in all black, Bucky in a suit and skinny tie and Natasha in a slinky dress that hugs her curves just right and shoes that look absolutely lethal.

"Steve," she says, looking pleased, and greets him with a hug and the kiss on each cheek like Russians just seem to do (at least it's not a full on the lips kiss as Steve has seen some of their politicians do, he would probably die of a heart attack right there), but unlike at the airport this time her hug is real, not one of those with as little touching as possible.

"Natasha, hey," Steve manages to reply. "You look gorgeous." He looks past her at Bucky. "Both of you."

Bucky smirks. "Thanks." When Natasha steps aside he steps in and gifts Steve with the same greeting Natasha did, and really, Steve wonders what he did to deserve this.

But they are here, and they've been flirting with him, and they let him take them out even after what he did, so he has to trust they know what they're doing, he reminds himself. "I'm so glad you came. I brought you something." He hands them their little gifts and gestures towards the flowers.

With a surprised noise Bucky receives his present. "Молочная капля!"

"I hope they're the right ones, because my Russian is terrible and you just described them," Steve says nervously. "Did I get it wrong?"

"No, these are perfect," Bucky beams at him. "Thank you." Still smiling so brightly, Bucky reaches out to take Steve's hand. He really does look smitten, and it's been so long that Steve has seen him smile like this that only now does he realize that Bucky would look at him like this often – as strange as that thought still seems to him. Insecurities aside, it's obvious though that he'd really been deep in denial to see Bucky like this every day and still tell himself it didn't mean anything.

Cheeks heating, Steve ducks his head and squeezes Bucky's hand. "My pleasure."

"I _knew_ you'd do this right," Natasha comments, very pleased as she receives her present. Her smug expression morphs into a real smile when she realizes what it is. "Almonds! That's so sweet, thank you!" She leans in and brushes a kiss, a purposeful one as opposed to the half-air greeting-kiss from earlier, to Steve's cheek. As she retreats she glances at Bucky and the two of them share a smile.

"Let's sit," Steve suggests, then has a brief moment of brain-freezing panic as his proper date etiquette impulse is to pull out the chair for his date, but he's dating two people so whose chair is he supposed to pull out? Except Bucky and Natasha are full-grown adults perfectly capable of sitting down without having anyone pull out their chairs, as they demonstrate while Steve is still frozen.

Alright then. _Calm,_ Steve reminds himself as he takes his own seat. _This isn't a test._

They exchange the appropriate smalltalk as they select read through the menu about getting here okay, and Steve has to explain how he actually managed to get a reservation at this prestigious restaurant. "American astronaut," Steve explains, a bit embarrassed. "Uhm. I hope you don't mind? I think part of the unspoken agreement was publicity so there will probably be paparazzi or something? There's got to be a back entrance though so if you want you can leave through there, but I'll have to go out front."

At that Natasha and Bucky share a look, the speaking kind in the way people who've known each other for years do, and then Natasha looks at Steve again and smiles. "That's fine."

Steve can't hide his relief. "Good. I mean, we only have a week, otherwise I would've... I mean at home I would've just invited you to my place and cooked for you, but I can't really do that here, much less on such short notice."

At that, Bucky and Natasha's expressions both turn a bit more serious. They don't share another look, but it's clear that they've talked about this when Bucky says, "About that. What are your thoughts about that? We don't exactly live close by usually."

"True," Steve has to admit. "And to be honest, I don't really have an answer. If we're lucky we'll go on that tour they're debating, so we'll get to spend some time together. And maybe... well, I. I'm going to resign my commission soon. After that, I think... maybe I can go work for ESA, if they want me. And then we'd be a bit closer. I mean, okay, Germany still isn't exactly next door, but part of it is part of the Federation even so... I don't know. It's all a bit vague right now, I know, but... if you're willing, I'd like to try, because I want to, I want... I want you. So... it might turn out too complicated, or too hard, or just not work out, but I'd still want to have at least tried, you know? I'm sorry I don't really have an answer, but."

"That's fine," Bucky assures him quickly. "I wasn't looking for an answer, just for what you want."

"And we want you too," Natasha adds, reaching out to cover Steve's hand with hers. "That's why we're here. We can figure this out together."

Steve swallows. "Good. I, I'm glad to hear that."

The rest of the meal they spend talking about less serious things; they discuss what it was like getting back from such an important mission, one they've all been preparing for for years (in a word, weird), what it's like with their sudden new fame, they even talk about such inane things like favorite foods and how Natasha and Bucky like proper Russians can drink anyone under the table, but normally actually prefer cocktails, if alcohol at all. Steve is a beer kind of guy, but only in the sense that he likes to drink it, he isn't a connoisseur. After a discussion they had about it the first time they went out as a team, Steve isn't surprised to find that Russian beer has a higher alcohol content as opposed to "weak American hops water", but he's not gonna pick any favorites.

It's. It's just very nice, talking about inconsequential things after weeks of tension, after the very heavy conversation Steve had been preparing for for weeks and got to have yesterday. Among everything else, Steve almost forgot how easy Bucky and Natasha are just to get along with; they don't do the couple thing where they refer something he doesn't know and then make him ask what it's about, or have insiders they refuse to explain, or bicker and make him feel like an awkward third wheel. Instead they have discussions that make Steve feel like he's talking to two people, instead of a closed unit. Sometimes there can be a certain loneliness in spending time with a couple, but not with Natasha and Bucky.

Never with them, Steve realizes a bit suddenly. They've always found ways to include him, by asking him questions, engaging him in a conversation instead of making him the audience of one, by explaining things to him without him having to ask. And it's the same thing now.

They probably spend a couple of hours at the restaurant in total, but the wait staff don't seem to mind and Steve frankly just doesn't want this evening to end. Tomorrow he and Sam will visit some sort of space museum and have to shake more hands and look impressed and schmooze at some sort of party-like event in the evening, and Bucky and Natasha will be there too and Steve will have to pretend like he isn't completely smitten. So right now he just wants to get as much time alone with the two of them as possible.

The sly smiles they send him and the way they keep touching him help making him want to stay forever too, of course.

But even the nicest evening has to end eventually and as reluctant as Steve is, once they start sharing a round of yawns for the second time he asks for the bill. The tip he leaves is exorbitant and pretty much depletes the rest of his available resources, but Steve figures they've more than earned it for how accommodating they've been.

As expected, paparazzi are waiting for them as they step out of the restaurant; Bucky and Natasha have each taken one of Steve's arms, but as they approach the guy who's going to retrieve his and Natasha's car Bucky slips away to pull the car keys out of his pocket.

Acutely aware of the rapid photos being snapped of them, Steve holds out his hand once Bucky half-turns to face them again as the valet leaves. And Bucky, with a rather breathtaking smile, takes it, stepping back into Steve's space. "We'll drive you," he informs Steve, though what with the questions being yelled at them rather rapidly Steve less hears him and more reads his lips.

Natasha squeezes Steve's arm in agreement, and then they all do their best to ignore the photographers and try not to get blinded by the flashes until their car pulls up. Natasha gets in the driver's seat and Bucky pushes Steve in the backseat, following in after him and quickly closing the door as the paparazzi surge forward, whatever invisible barrier that kept them away before vanishing as the very visible barrier of the car closes around them. But somehow Natasha manages to navigate them out of that, presumably without driving over any feet, though Steve wouldn't swear on that.

"Wow," he breathes once they've pulled out of the parking lot and are on the street, picking up speed. Inasmuch as that's possible within city limits, anyway. "That was... intense."

"This is a famous restaurant, and we are famous people," Natasha points out.

Bucky snorts and adds, "Plus, this could only have looked more like a date if we'd made out in front of them." He winks at Steve, who flushes.

He might or might not have thought about it. But as much as he wants to kiss them, either of them, both of them, he isn't quite sure of how all that's going to work with three people instead of two.

Apart from all the external complications they face, there's also the part where Steve is coming into an established marriage, a relationship that has been going on for years. It's bound to get a bit difficult, for all of them.

But Bucky's still holding his hand, and Steve's heart is pounding in his chest, and that's not due to the adrenaline rush of the scene earlier.

It's worth the effort. As difficult as it will be, he really wants to try.

He squeezes Bucky's hand, and Bucky turns his head to smile at him, sweet and bright, as he squeezes back, and Natasha is laughing her throaty laugh because of something Bucky has said, and god, there's nothing Steve has wanted to fight for as much as this.

 

 

 **Epilogue:** one year later

"If this doesn't count as our anniversary, what does?" Steve asks. Okay, he might be pouting a little, but that's because he'd made plans, had prepared a bit of a surprise for them. He reserved a table for them at a restaurant, he got them gifts – those same caramel candies he got Bucky a year ago, and yes, they'd been pretty hard to obtain in Germany, plus of course candied almonds for Natasha – and then, when he suggested they go out to eat, Natasha had been ambivalent and Bucky too lazy to get dressed.

No amount of trying to convince Bucky had worked (who, to be fair, had had a hard day training a bunch of newbies freshly arrived at the EAC), until Steve had eventually had to ruin the surprise and point out that it's their anniversary.

Only for Natasha to disagree.

"Aww, солнышко," Natasha coos, jumping over the backrest of the sofa Steve is sitting on. "Today is the anniversary of our first date, so you aren't wrong entirely." She wraps her arms around his neck and leans against Steve – that is to say, pushes her breasts against his crossed arms, and the day Steve doesn't understand this as the invitation it is... well, he's kind of powerless against that, so he sighs and uncrosses his arms, settles his hands on Natasha's hips as she climbs into his lap. "And you are very sweet to make such plans for this." She kisses him once on the lips, then twice, and they've been living together in Cologne for two months now, but after ten months of long distance relationship with its fair amount of hardships both internal and external, two months really hasn't been long enough by far to make Steve even remotely immune to that kind of persuasion.

They're still kissing when Bucky settles down next to Steve and leans into his side, nuzzles his face into his neck. Bucky is the kind of person that gave five o'clock shadow its name, and somehow the rasp of his stubble against Steve's sensitive skin is as effective as Natasha's less subtle tactic; Steve shivers and immediately lets go of Natasha with one hand, wraps his arm around Bucky's shoulders. It's Natasha who pulls Bucky in by the collar, but she pulls him towards Steve, and that too is an invitation Steve is incapable of turning away.

Not that he'd ever want to.

They're a bit of a tight fit, the three of them pressed against each other on the sofa, and while they've had a year to work on their relationship, the physical part is something they're still trying to work out as they didn't have much opportunity to practice what with the long distance. But this, the kissing they've got down pat.

By the time they surface Steve has almost forgotten what they were even talking about, and when he remembers... well, they can just stay home. Staying home is fine with him.

"You make a good point though," Bucky rasps, and god, Steve loves the way his voice gets low and rough when he's turned on. "We never really talked about when our anniversary actually is."

This is true, they haven't. After that first date, they went on another date; only one in the week Steve spent in Moscow, as their tight schedule just hadn't permitted more. And after Steve had to go back they spent a lot of time talking via Skype, and then Natasha and Bucky had done their return visit to DC, and even if they had made no attempt to be subtle in Moscow, by that point they'd been very firmly out and proud. It all happened pretty seamlessly.

"You wanna talk about it _now_?" Natasha asks, and she doesn't even bother giving Bucky any time to reply, instead leans in to nip at that spot below his ear that always makes him shiver.

"Ngh," Bucky makes, eyes fluttering for a moment, and Steve just _has_ to kiss him again.

They don't make the reservation, but the candy and almonds are well-received as a post-coital snack some hours later.

Ironically, they eventually agree that Steve was in fact right and their first date is as close to an anniversary as they have for now.

"For now," Bucky emphasizes, nipping at Steve's shoulder to underline his point.

"In Soviet Russia, we can marry you," Natasha adds off-handedly (except in the ways it really isn't) from where she's digging her chin into Steve's belly.

"Once we've proposed," Bucky points out in a way that makes clear that this isn't the first time this topic has come up, at least between him and Natasha.

Steve is rendered utterly speechless, and while technically it's not a proposal yet, just the fact that they've talked about it, that they both want it enough to actually bring it up to him, that means just as much. It's enough to make his eyes water.

His life has changed a lot over the past year, but while not everything went without its hiccups – some people in the US hadn't taken his personal and professional choices well; a few had even gone so far as to call him a traitor – in the end, Steve doesn't regret a single decision he's made in the past fourteen months. How could he, if they led him to this?

**Author's Note:**

> I know that under communism it wasn't called the Russian Federation. But the version of the Soviet union I'm going for is a lot less totalitarian dictatorship (with zero stalinism, yay) and a lot more "for the people, by the people, _there is so much bureaucracy oh my god_ " (ask me about my headcanons, go on) and I wanted to make the distinction clear.
> 
> Mилый (Milyy) = cute
> 
> солнышко (solnyshko) = sunshine, Natasha's nickname for Steve
> 
> Молочная капля are sweet milk drops, sort of caramel candy with a liquid filling. Search for that term to see pics.
> 
> ESA is the European Space Agency that officially orchestrated the United Lunar Expedition, and Steve would probably work at the European Astronauts Centre (EAC) which is located in Cologne, Germany. (That's in fact where he and Bucky work in the epilogue. Meanwhile Natasha has started her third career, since she's excelled her last two to the maximum: she's now training to be a firefighter.)


End file.
